


too much to bear

by GoldenThreads



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Haphephobia, Misunderstandings, Unconventional courtship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25436374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenThreads/pseuds/GoldenThreads
Summary: At the end of the evening, Ferdinand makes a strange request.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 115





	too much to bear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tieru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tieru/gifts).



> Absolutely possessed by [this gorgeous piece](https://twitter.com/Allyssinian/status/1285698189253804032) and the idea therein.
> 
> General canon-typical Bernie headspace warnings.

Ferdinand is going to break up with her.

She knows. It’s been coming for a long time. Ever since they started courting—no, ever since stupid Bernie squeaked  _ yes  _ when Ferdinand asked, instead of being a good friend and explaining why she couldn’t, because she was just so happy he’d think to ask at all that she got carried away by the dream of this actually working. And it can’t. It just—can’t.

They do all the storybook romantic things like dinners and garden walks and one time he even took her to the beach to look for seashells in the moonlight, because of course Ferdinand is like that, he wouldn’t be her Ferdinand if he wasn’t! And that’s all lovely! But sometimes in the beginning he’d also reach for her hand, slow and cautious, and watch all sadly when she snatched her fingers away.

Eventually he stopped trying. He stopped waiting a few awkward moments after walking her to her door, the moments where any other warm-hearted lover would get at  _ least  _ a quick little peck on the cheek. He stopped asking if she wanted to go anywhere—not private, exactly? Bernadetta didn’t mind being alone with him. She minded not being able to  _ escape. _ Boat rides she couldn’t jump out of, opera outings where she’d have to elbow through a crush of strangers, even horseback rides where getting home depended on someone giving her back the reins. Ferdinand would always give her the reins, but…something could always happen.

He just stopped.

It’s not good for a man’s pride to be refused like that. That’s why a good wife is so obliging, you know? And Ferdinand’s pride is still—fragile isn’t the word, but it’s like the stalk of a very fickle plant, growing and growing and if it’s not balanced just right, the big sunflower head at the top will snap right off. More than anything, she wants it to keep growing strong. It can’t do that with her, because she’s not a trellis and she’s not the sun and rain, she’s not even mud, she’s just a few specks of uninteresting gravel on the paths beneath his horses’ hooves.

So it’s inevitable. She’s unsuitable. They’ve always been destined to fall apart. She knows this.

But Bernadetta’s still standing there in front of her doorway, chewing her own heart to mush in her mouth as she waits for whatever it is Ferdinand has to say. It’s been building up in him all evening. He gets distracted so easily, but always invites her along for the ride, except tonight. Tonight he just looked at her and wouldn’t tell her why, and she knew.

Ferdinand clears his throat.

She’s not going to cry. If she cries he won’t be able to do it, and  _ she’ll  _ never be able to do it, so the only way to get Ferdinand out of the dreadful chains of their courtship is to let him take a bolt cutter to her life. He can snip her up into little pieces and drop her in the trash like a doll not even good for scraps, and she won’t cry a tear until she’s back in her room where he can’t see. She can give him that much. She loves him that much, even if she can’t touch him or show it or—

“Bernadetta, this…may sound rather odd, I realize. I have been unable to summon the appropriate words.”

“Just.” She shuts her eyes, knowing Ferdinand will only give her one of those soft little smiles, the ones he always gives her when she brushes aside his brain’s more turbulent moments. The ones she won’t get to see much longer. “It’s okay, Ferdinand. Just say it.”

He nods to himself and squares his shoulders, the perfect image of a knight off to do valiant battle and prick her chest full of lances. “Very well. I have conceived an alternative plan of action for moments such as this! It grieves me to see you…troubled, you understand.”

Yes. She understands. Everything troubles her, and he cannot bear to watch any longer.

“Could you fetch Miss Bernie Bear?”

Actually, no, she doesn’t understand. Does Ferdinand think she needs to be holding onto something when he breaks the news? That’s awfully considerate, but she’s not a seven-year-old, even if sometimes she’d rather be that small for hiding purposes.

Ferdinand must see the confusion on her face, wide eyes darting around, because he starts scratching at the back of his own head in aloof embarrassment. “Please? I will turn around and not even look into your room, I promise.” And so he does, showing her his back, which is never very imposing since his cape has that weird asymmetry, so everyone only ever ends up staring at it and thinking,  _ why, _ instead of being intimidated.

Very well. This will be the only breakup of Bernadetta’s life, because she’s never saying yes to anyone ever again, so it might as well be the most embarrassing one too.

Her bear is tucked into bed right where she left it, and in the space of three shaky breaths Bernadetta is back outside, leaning against the door and tucking her face against the stuffed animal and waiting for the sky to fall.

Ferdinand clears his throat again, which is  _ awful, _ it’s the worst sound in the whole universe and shudders like knives in her chest. She’s stupid but she’s not  _ this  _ stupid, she knows what he—what he’s going to—

“Miss Bernie Bear, might I kiss you goodnight? I know such things are too troublesome for my dear Bernadetta to bear—ah, do pardon the pun, it is not my intent to make fun. It is only…it troubles me, that she may not enjoy all the affection that burns for her within my breast. I wondered if you might be our go-between in such matters. If both ladies assent to such an odd request, of course.”

Bernadetta stares at him. She almost faints. Her limbs feel like noodles left in the pot overnight, so over-saturated with emotion that they might just fall apart. The bear would fall from her grasp entirely if not for Ferdinand reaching out to hold its little arms, careful that their hands don’t touch.

“Please?” he asks again, and his face is as red as his cravat and he’s never looked more beautiful.

All she can do is lift up her bear until its plush little ears are even with the top of her hair. Bernadetta presses her forehead to the back of its head, shuts her eyes, and turns all of herself towards the moment when Ferdinand will lean in and—there. The slightest pressure. His lips brushing the space between two shiny button eyes.

“Good night, my sweet lily of the valley. Rest well.”

And with that, he turns to go.

_ “Wait!” _

Bernadetta stumbles after him, blindly shoving her bear into his arms. This is—she can’t even start to categorize all the different beautiful little flies he just sent buzzing about in the pitcher of her mind, enriching and sustaining and he  _ loves  _ her, he wants to  _ kiss  _ her even now, he understands she wants to be kissed and only sees it—the getting her what she wants, not the  _ getting  _ her—as a challenge to be overcome, and she. Can’t gobble flies this fast. Can’t think. Breathe.

“Take this!” she shrieks. Desperate.

Ferdinand’s smile tilts just this side of sad. “Darling, I cannot deprive you of—”

“For kisses,” Bernadetta begs. “Give Bernie Bear your kisses. And hugs. T-tuck her into your bed. She’s not as warm, but I. I want. But I can’t.”

For a horrifying moment she thinks he’ll hand the bear back.

Instead he folds Bernie Bear into his warm arms, as gently and firmly as he’ll do for her someday. “Alright. I will keep Miss Bernie Bear company.”

Bernadetta nods stiffly. She stares at him, at her bear in his arms, for another few seconds. She thinks of that gentle pressure, of Ferdinand’s lips, of the smile he wears now parting to—

And she flees back behind the door with a shriek of, “Good night!”

—

In the morning, there is a package on her doorstep.

Inside sits a bright orange stuffed tabby cat wearing a lopsided red, blue, and gold cape.

**_I have requested Sir Purrdinand to look after you, as Bernie Bear is occupied with her heartfelt duties for the foreseeable future. Please bestow upon him any such affections as you may feel unable to share. Perhaps you might accustom yourself to calling him Purrdie, if it so pleases._ **

**_I am not going anywhere, my darling. I am not waiting for you. I am simply here._ **

**_Yours._ **


End file.
